Isko's Heart

If a tattered wasteland was an apocalyptic cliché, Isko figured it didn’t matter…there weren’t a lot of people to cast judgment on it, after The Great Abandoning. Two thirds of Humanity now floated away from the Sun, toward Systems that might offer a safe haven and solace. Isko had seen a great many people weep at being left to fight off the ceaseless attacks, by aliens that seemed to have no real purpose. To Isko, there had never been anything other than the cliché. Being artificially created to fight for Humanity didn’t lend itself to a great deal of experience actually living, so there wasn’t much to lament. It was like that for most of the products of the Sigma Program.

Scanning the lifeless canyon ahead revealed a collection of some kind of metal-based equipment, but little life. A quick climb up the crumbly side of a bad idea disguised as a cliff revealed nothing worth the scraped hands. A grunt was the only complaint from Isko. Working like this was far better than being forced to work under a Command.

Taking a few bracing breaths, ramping up both nerves and nervous system, Isko lent a prayer to the Universe for a quick death if there was one to be found, sprinting forward. The team would be thrilled if some good equipment could be recovered, and this felt like a damn fine collection, the closer it came into sensory range. Rocky wallpaper flashed by at muscle-tearing speeds. Scientists would likely argue for Millenia about whether to consider Human-AI-hybrids like Isko ‘alive’…but when the pain set in the wind flew by, and the blood pumped through…it felt like living: real and raw.

The whisper of an echo off of metal was call for a rapid stop and search. Once, Isko had smiled when a cache the size of this one was found. Spread around a shallow hint of a cave set into layered sandstone were organic matter converters, anti-aircraft strike rounds, medical supplies, maps, journals, comms equipment… Isko noted all of those things peripherally, but green eyes were glued to the still figure in the center of the shaded indentation. She was dead, as was so often the case in War. Her hands were oddly riveting, not clenched into fists as seen on so many corpses, but over her heart, holding something there.

“What have you there?” Isko asked the corpse. “Mind if I see?”

Her hand lifted with shocking ease, locked flat over what was revealed to be a bundle of oily papers, along with what was likely once a flower—incredibly rare outside of an underground greenhouse—and a small chain with some kind of box attached. Isko hesitated for a long moment. What was it about Humanity that made them cling to things, even as they died? Isko’s mind turned it over, absently calling for a team to come reallocate the equipment and body. The papers, useless now, had likely been meant for someone. A letter. The flower probably had some significance, as well. The little box-on-a-chain…Isko lifted it into a shaft of light. It was thick and shaped like a heart. Beneath a thick patina lay a golden shimmer that spoke of sweeter times.

Frowning at being unable to make the decision to put the thing back, Isko shoved it into a pocket as the sound of Hovers neared. At least the team would work fast so they could all move along to the next thing people were stressed about.

“Isko!” Irone’s voice echoed through the canyon. “Send up the flare, dumbass!” The woman was right, it should have already been in place. “Shit,” Irone said as she trampled her way into the small shelter, glancing at the dead body before searching through the equipment, estimating weights and fragility for transport. “Thanks, Isko. You’re the worst conversation a woman could ask for, but you do damn fine work.”

Isko’s headshake was all that was ever offered the ridiculous woman, despite her rank which was higher than Isko’s was allowed to go. The fact that she soon wandered over to the body when no one was looking and offered last rites made things feel…better. A quiet moment after she left the body, it was now easier to see the woman’s decaying face more clearly.

“Would you ever expect to find a person out here…alone?” Irone was suddenly near, carefully wrangling the paper into a small preservation case. Hopefully, it would be able to revert the paper. It was a surprise to see one riding bitch with Irone as she announced her presence everywhere she went with the cunning use of loud, purposeful steps. Not that she wasn’t bright, but the things were expensive.

“I suppose I wouldn’t,” Isko finally replied, pulling out the little box and handing it to her. Why had they pocketed the thing in the first place?

She took it without a word and opened it, then glanced at the deceased woman on the floor. “This is probably her,” she pointed to a young woman with black hair and olive skin offset by deep green eyes: a compelling portrait. “This could have been taken later…perhaps her son or brother?”

Isko shrugged uncomfortably, “Does it matter?”

Irone lifted an eyebrow, looking from the box to Isko and back. “I don’t know…does it?” she handed it back. “Take it. I can investigate the letter…we have to in case she was trying to deliver some information of value, but the locket won’t help much.”

“What if this man is somehow important?” Isko asked.

“He was important. To her,” she gestured, and patted their arm firmly. “Isko…it is unlikely that he is anything other than someone she loved that was in her family.”

Isko was quiet, unable to comprehend the grip of the throat, the squeezing of the chest, the burning in the nasal cavity and the ringing in the ears. It was too much…where was it coming from? Was the Human part waking up? Isko was half-Human, but none of them were expected to be much more. There wasn’t a lot of time for argument in the fight to avoid extermination. The grip of the throat subsided and pocketing the locket with its strange powers of emotion felt like the only option.

“Are you alright, Isko?” Irone suddenly asked, and Isko stared at her in complete and utter disbelief. “What is it?” she asked, uncertainly.

“No one has ever asked me that,” Isko said. “I’m fine. Let’s move this shit quick, I’ve got Comms on an Avaloni attack on the southern quad.”

“You hear they wiped out the Cape?” one of the transport lift-operators asked as he came into the clearing dragging a bed for the small items. “Entire thing razed to glass,” he shook his head and spat.

“No one asked you, Rin,” Irone said. “Double-time, Isko’s got a live one on Comms and a storm is coming in.”

“I’m ready to move out,” seeing that they were well on their way to clearing out left a glaring need to evade any more seeking inquiries from a woman that had paid Isko no mind until the moment they’d suddenly felt…overwhelmed.

Irone nodded, “Make sure we’re clear before you go. I’ll send you a DNA readout and anything I can get from the note.”

Isko grunted and left without another word, somehow left feeling as if Irone was perhaps the only person that might understand. Which was insane after three years of barely speaking and a sudden five-minute conversation where Isko abruptly felt…seen. A shudder, jaw clenching in anxiety—it was too fucking much. A solid run around the perimeter, spiraling away from the area in an effort to make sure Irone and the team were safe, and the search continued once again. In an effort to save a civilization that didn’t even seem to enjoy living.

Two days later found Isko hunkered down in a shelter, three hundred kilometers away from the cache with the dead woman. Isko’s teeth were gritted in fierce concentration. The Avaloni were cresting a ridge—it was rare that they attacked on the ground, which meant that they must have thought they’d found an underground settlement. There wasn’t one nearby, so Isko was only supposed to observe. Which had been boring until a piece of equipment had come into view that was completely unfamiliar.

Isko’s mind also churned on the information Irone had delivered only an hour before. The note, almost predictably, had been one of sadness and love: Though death should take me, my Son, know that life is merely a thing that happens. It is not good or bad that I lived, nor is it good or bad that I die. My beloved Arin, know that it is Human to live and to die. Everything in between is where I put my love for you…but I believe it was my life’s greatest purpose to love you…and that will follow me on my way, helping to expand the Universe ever wider.

Isko’s disappointment at the vague and poetic words was overinflated. No indication of place, or time, or full names, or even origins. Just…words of love that she must have known would never find Arin, her child. Hell, it was likely Arin was dead as well and that she’d known that even as she wrote it. Isko’s throat tightened once more. It is Human to live and to die.

“Isko,” jerking and wincing in pain as the earpiece buzzed, Isko quickly turned it down.

“Yes,” Isko needed water judging by the croak.

“Fall back. Sensors picking up electromagnetic pulse signals that are fine-tuned to the Sigma project.”

“What?” Isko was a product of the Sigma project, along with nearly a hundred others that were used in high-risk situations. They were practically immortal…and Isko was tired. The last time they’d checked, the best option for killing one of the Sigma Sentients was to launch them directly into the Sun. Isko didn’t even think and began a steady pace toward the Avaloni’s.

“Irone, you got the DNA tests. What was her name?”

“Isko, what are you doing? Sensors say you’re heading straight for them!”

“Answer the question, Irone!”

“Why the fuck does it matter?” she yelled.

“It matters to me,” Isko came to a halt in realization, as it all came exploding into perspective. Isko actually cared. About Irone, this unknown woman and her son, Arin. It was real and honest and frightening.

“Evelyn Will,” her voice came back an angry staccato. “Isko, what are you doing?”

“Do you know how old I am?” Isko started to walk toward the Avaloni again, the locket hanging from a smooth, golden hand. Isko had always loved to run. It was the only place to retreat to that felt real...the place where thought and action became one.

“Yes, Isko,” she said, her voice falling from anger into a whisper of understanding. “But…why? What about Evelyn Will and her lost son has made this your option.”

“Being created as I am made this my option,” Isko said, “No regrets. I made it, Irone. I’m Human…I’m as Human as I can ever be and remain sane and trustworthy. The more Human I become, the less I belong. At least now…” a half-Human hand tightened over the heart containing the faces of Evelyn and Arin, “…at least now I do it while caring about someone. And that’s more than enough.”

The blast that propagated forth from the Avaloni felt almost gentle as it fried the ionic bonds in Isko’s body. They fell to the Earth with the sigh of a content summer breeze.

Weeks later, Irone finally found Isko. They’d decimated the Avaloni and finally beaten a retreat out of the bastards…for now. That morning, she’d found Arin…alive. She pulled the locket from Isko’s still clenched hand and shook her head in wonder at the smile still locked on his face. Through tears, she couldn’t help but smile back.